Fostering – Page 30

3/1/11 – Tuesday

New month, new banner! Christine – who’s done a LOT of banners for me lately – created this one, too. Just seeing those sweet little faces is making me itchy to have more wee fosters! Hey, I’m practically halfway through my six-week recovery period, aren’t I? Yay! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ … Continue reading “3/1/11 – Tuesday”

New month, new banner!

Christine – who’s done a LOT of banners for me lately – created this one, too. Just seeing those sweet little faces is making me itchy to have more wee fosters! Hey, I’m practically halfway through my six-week recovery period, aren’t I? Yay!

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I don’t have a whole lot to write about, as you can imagine. I can tell you that I’m feeling pretty good these days, although yesterday I tried to put on sports bra that was tighter than the cheap ones I’ve been wearing from Walmart, and I made it maybe five minutes before I was ripping that damn bra off and getting another cheap bra out of the drawer.

I’m sleeping okay lately, with the help of painkillers. Fred is being absolutely spoiled, because more often than not lately, we’re off to bed by 8:30. I lay in bed and surf the internet on my netbook (LOVE that thing), and he’s probably sound asleep well before 9:00. I sleep propped up on pillows with a pillow on either side of me where I rest my arms. I’ve never been much of a back sleeper, but the couple of times I’ve attempted laying on my side, it hasn’t gone so well, so I’m a back sleeper for now.

Arizona Robin (who is not the same person as Arizona Robbins, if you were wondering) asked yesterday how difficult it is to brush my hair what with the scalp scabs. It’s not a problem, really – I’m careful not to brush too hard after my shower, and I don’t bother to spend much time styling my hair, because this is how it looks 23 1/2 hours of the day:

(Note the inside-out white t-shirt.)

The high point of my day is at 3:30, when I get to take that thing off my head, the Ace bandages off my arms, all my clothes off, and take a shower. Fred gets home just about the time I get out of the shower, and he wraps my arms for me and then puts the head garment back on me. (If pressed, I could probably do the Ace bandages on my arms, but I don’t think I could get that head thing back on.) That fifteen minutes or half hour of freedom is kind of glorious, and I look forward to the time when I won’t have to wear all that shit.

I’m watching a LOT of TV these days. I set up to tape episodes of House, and I’ve probably watched 15 – 20 episodes and have another 20-something on the DVR. Watching TV wasn’t an easy thing for me in the week and a half after surgery, because I kept falling asleep. It took me three tries to watch one particular episode of House because I slept through the entire thing the first try through, and then most of the way in the second attempt.

Yesterday, I watched an episode of Confessions of Animal Hoarders (or whatever the hell it’s called) and was so disturbed by the fact that these people with 80 cats were washing their dirty litter boxes IN THE KITCHEN SINK that I had to pause the show and go upstairs and take a nap. I mean, GAH. SHITTY LITTER BOXES DO NOT GET WASHED IN THE KITCHEN SINK, FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, PEOPLE. Wash them outside with the hose, or in the utility sink (if you have one), or if you MUST, wash them in the shower and then sanitize the FUCK out of the shower.

I myself, actually, do not wash the litter boxes in any of those places. I prefer to spray down empty litter boxes with my favorite cleaning spray, then once they’re scrubbed cleaned I finish them with the spray bottle of 50/50 white vinegar and water. When they’re completely dry, I wipe down the lower third of the litter boxes with olive oil, let that soak in and dry, and then refill them with clean litter.

(I’m currently using 50% Precious Cat and 50% Fresh Step. The Precious Cat is good litter (and as dust-free as any I’ve seen), but doesn’t quite do the job of keeping down the smell that I’d hope for.)

The olive oil helps keep clumps from sticking to the litter box. If you were wondering.

Well. Wasn’t THAT a fascinating tangent?

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Have I ever mentioned that I can hardly stand how gorgeous Corbie is?

SO gorgeous. He knows it, too.

Corbie ear floof.

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Kara, enjoying the unseasonably warm weather we’ve had lately (NOT complaining!)

Miz Poo, doing the same.

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Previously
2010: I guess it’s March’s plan to come in like a lion
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: Natalie Maines could use some wardrobe advice, though, and I hope I’m not trampling all over her Right to Freely Dress Like a Bag Lady when I say that.
2006: It was so friggin’ cute I made Fred listen to it, too.
2005: I have my finger on the pulse of pop culture, apparently.
2004: A day in the life.
2003: What makes me crazy.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Okay, enough of the wallowing.

2/28/11 – Monday

Behold, I continue to live! I saw the plastic surgeon on Friday, and had all my stitches and staples out. The stitches weren’t too bad, and MOST of the staples weren’t too bad. The staples that were in my scalp, for instance, weren’t bad. A few of them hurt coming out, but only momentarily. The … Continue reading “2/28/11 – Monday”

Behold, I continue to live!

I saw the plastic surgeon on Friday, and had all my stitches and staples out. The stitches weren’t too bad, and MOST of the staples weren’t too bad. The staples that were in my scalp, for instance, weren’t bad. A few of them hurt coming out, but only momentarily. The staples that came out of my armpit, on the other hand, hurt so much as they were coming out that I about levitated up off the table. Like I told a few people, I wasn’t looking forward to having them taken out, but I was looking forward to having them gone. Now that they’re gone, I can say that the staples in my arm pits were responsible for about 75% of the pain I was having. It is NICE having the damn things gone, so that in the event that I move my arm or even THINK about moving my arm, there isn’t a warning pain from my armpit.

Since I still have swelling under my chin, I have to continue wearing the face compression garment. Since my ears have been hurting like crazy from rubbing the inside of the garment, Fred cut ear holes in the sides so that my ears stick out. It’s quite the fashion statement, I’m sure you can imagine. It’s probably a good thing that I have to continue wearing it, since there are scabs on my scalp (around where the staples were) and I cannot help myself but pick at them if I have access. With the garment on, I can’t get to the scabs, which can only be a good thing.

My arms are still swollen, so I have to keep them wrapped in Ace bandages (or rather, Fred has to wrap them for me) for a few more weeks.

The good thing is that since all my incisions are healed and not draining, we were able to stop with the daily antibacterial ointment-dressing with gauze thing, and go to using gauze only when I need to protect my incision lines, such as when I’m wearing a bra.

So naturally I said to him “So, should I start wearing a sports bra?”

He stopped, considered, and said “Sure, you can if you want to.”

I wondered later why the hell I was instructed to buy a sports bra if they weren’t going to tell me to start wearing the damn thing. Because not only did I buy a sports bra, I bought about 10 of them because I was so concerned about having one that would work for me.

After the nurse removed my staples and stitches, she rewrapped my arms.

“Is that too tight?” she asked.

“No, that’s just perfect,” I said. And at that moment it was. As we headed out of the exam room and waited to make my next appointment, I came to realize that the wrap on my right arm (which is more swollen than the left) was actually a bit too tight. Okay, maybe WAY TOO FUCKING TIGHT. By the time my appointment was made and we were in the car, my right hand was tingling and going numb. I ended up taking the wrap completely off for the ride home.

“I guess it was a little too tight,” I said to Fred.

“Well, she was practically hanging off you as she came to the end of the wrapping,” he said.

So I don’t see the surgeon again for two months, which I thought was odd, but they were quick to tell me that I could call the office if I had any questions or problems or thought I needed to see him again.

With the staples out, I’m having a lot less pain and have switched to Ibuprofen and Acetaminophen during the day, saving the narcotics for nighttime.

In the past couple of days, I’ve noticed that my forearms are hurting – if I touch them, they feel bruised. Luckily, I’ve done enough reading online to know that that’s normal and will go away in time.

After my shower Saturday morning, I put on a sports bra (one of the cheap ones I got from Walmart). It got to be uncomfortable, though, so I took it off after a couple of hours. After my shower Sunday, I pulled out a white t-shirt, turned it inside-out so the seams were on the outside, pulled that on, and then put the bra on over it. That turned out to be pretty comfortable, and so that’s how I plan to wear it from here on out.

I’ve still got a lot of swelling going on – I measured myself on Sunday just for shits and giggles, and determined that if I were shopping for a bra right now, I’d need a 34G.

“They don’t look like they’re a size G,” Fred said helpfully. As if HE’d know. A lot of the swelling is under my arms, too, which of course effects the measurement.

So, to recap: I’m still pretty swollen, I have to wear the head compression garment for the next little while AND keep my arms wrapped. I have a scabby scalp. I’m mostly off the narcotics. And I’m feeling very little pain now.

If you’re going to have any kind of plastic surgery, I have two bits of advice for you:

1. Keep the hell away from that scale for at least a month. I weighed myself last week and found that I was up TEN POUNDS from the day before surgery. I am fully aware that I haven’t gained real weight – that it’s due to all the swelling. And yet, seeing ten extra pounds on the scale was a nasty surprise.

2. Don’t look at yourself in the mirror for at least a month, preferably two. Before that, you just look like a big swollen beast, you’ll obsess over how your boobs DO NOT LOOK LIKE BOOBS and your arms OH MY GOD ARE STILL SO BIG and I STILL HAVE A DAMN DOUBLE CHIN, and really. No good can come of looking at yourself in the mirror. Trust me.

Oh, and a bonus third thing I just thought of:

3. Fiber is your friend. Stool softeners are your friend. ESPECIALLY if you’re on narcotics, because if you’re not on top of things, you will be a hurting unit, trust me. Get as much damn fiber down your throat as you possibly can, or you’ll be sad. Fred made a huge pot of red beans and rice for dinner yesterday, and there’s so much left over that we’ll both be eating it for lunches all this week.

Speaking of narcotics, Fred went digging in the cupboard in the kitchen where we keep some of the spillover from our medicine cabinet, and found not only a half-full bottle of Percoset left over from my hysterectomy last year, but also some from my gallbladder surgery 4 1/2 years ago. AND some Lorcet from…. I don’t remember. Maybe my lower body lift? We always tend to save the leftover pills “just in case”, and then they sit there for years.

We’re not very good druggies, I guess.

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Aw, look what I found on my hard drive!

Rhyme and Corbie, out exploring the back yard!

Good ol’ Rhyme. (And good ol’ Corbie, too, of course!)

Bath time for Corbie.

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I like how, despite the fact that there are two perfectly comfy, totally empty cat beds on the table, Newt has decided instead to flop across the table itself.

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Alice, trying to decide whether Loony Jake needs company (she ultimately decided that he didn’t, and went off to find more inviting places to sleep).

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Miz Poo, in the foster room.

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Previously
2010: No entry.
2009: No entry.
2008: Damn those cats and their Snackin’ Time.
2007: Who knew that Hellcats enjoy ripping eyeballs from your face and then batting them around the room?
2006: Yeah, one of those days.
2005: So sue me.
2004: Always.
2003: What keeps me sane.
2002: No entry.
2001: Plants.
2000: Translation: I’m going to get a gown that will cover your fat ass.

2/22/11 – Still alive!

Poor sweet Muffin has a twisted paw that needs surgery ASAP. Please help out if you can, and if you can’t donate, help spread the word, would you? Muffin’s ChipIn page. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Hi, … Continue reading “2/22/11 – Still alive!”

Poor sweet Muffin has a twisted paw that needs surgery ASAP. Please help out if you can, and if you can’t donate, help spread the word, would you?

Muffin’s ChipIn page.

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Hi, y’all. Just a quick one to let you know that I am, in fact, still alive. I’m just not spending much time in front of the computer. Right now, I’m spending 99% of my time in the recliner either watching TV or snoozing through a TV show. I’ve spent a lot of time snoozing through cooking shows, and I have to say that the only cooking show hostess I can remotely stand is Giada. Everyone else annoys me.

(Well really, Giada annoys me kind of too, but she annoys me the least of any of them.)

Why, you ask, am I spending so much time watching cooking shows if they annoy me? That is an excellent question, and I don’t know. Just ’cause, I guess. If I’m gonna be cranky anyway (and OH I am plenty cranky), why not have something to blame the crankiness on?

The pain is one million times better than it was last week. I’m keeping on top of my pain medication and yes, I’m icing my sore spots occasionally, but mostly I’m just in a state of stasis where I’m waiting to be past this ridiculous healing stage and back to life as normal.

I can unequivocally tell you that if I had just had the neck lift and the breast lift, I would likely be flitting around here like nothing had happened. The biggest part of the pain I’m feeling is coming from my arm pits. I don’t know that I mentioned it before, but my arm lift was an “extended” arm lift, and so the incision on each side goes from my elbow, up my arm, through my arm pit, and down to meet the incision under my breast. As I’m finding out, there are a LOT of damn nerves located in the arm pit, and between the zings of pain my arm pits are sending out and how swollen the tops of my arms are, that’s where I’m having the biggest issues.

There are several staples at the top of each arm that will be coming out Friday, and believe you me, I’ll be taking drugs before THAT appointment.

But on the good side, the pain medication is helping (though I had to call yesterday for one more refill, and didn’t I feel like the drug-seekingest drug seeker on the planet), I’ve been taking a shower every day (even though touching my incisions to clean them still ooks me out), and every day I move a little more easily.

I’ve been sleeping in my bed since, I think, Sunday night. Maybe Saturday. There seems to be a pattern where I have a decent night followed by a bad night, then another decent night, etc. Luckily I can make up for the bad nights by snoozing in the recliner.

(The people next door brought home a dog around Christmas. They tied him or her outside, and that dog lives outside, chained up, 24/7, just a dog and his/her dog house. S/he likes to start barking at 3:00 every morning. Before surgery, I was able to sleep through it. Since surgery, since it’s directly outside my bedroom window for the most part, it wakes me up. Some mornings I just doze back off, and some mornings I fume. I don’t for the life of me understand the point of getting a dog if you’re going to just tie it outside, never take it for a walk, never let it off leash to run around. For god’s sake, it’s not like the dog could defend against home intruders or anything – anyone wanting to break into the house next door isn’t going to be stopped by that dog, since the dog can’t get even close to the house.)

Cara asked if the entirety of my neck lift was the incision under my chin. No, the incision under my chin is where the surgeon did liposuction (and now, a week and a half later, the skin at the bottom of my neck is still bruised, though it’s mostly gone). There’s an incision in front of my ears, seen here (okay, you have to look kind of close, I guess):

and then the incision goes around behind my ears, and off into my hairline, held closed by staples.

I’m still wearing the headgear on my head all the time unless I’m in the shower, and I’ll continue wearing that ’til I see the surgeon again on Friday.

I’ve got ace bandages around both of my upper arms.

I’m not wearing a sports bra at this point, but I expect that the surgeon will direct me to start wearing one when I see him on Friday.

So, that’s me. I’m healing, I’m snoozing, I’m doing fine. I don’t know when regular posting will resume again, but I would guess maybe next week, at least in a limited fashion.

Thanks, you guys, for your well wishes. They definitely help!

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Reacher and Corbie, before Reacher went home with Kathy.

So Reacher went to his new home, what, two weeks ago? Yeah, I guess tomorrow makes two weeks. I really and honestly thought that he’d be scared for a couple of days, and then overcome his fear because he’s always been such a lovebug.

It hasn’t quite happened like that. Kathy’s kept me updated on how Reacher’s been doing, and he’s proving a hard nut to crack. He is FINALLY letting her pet him in the past few days.

You can read the details over at Kathy’s site.

I feel so bad both for Reacher and for Kathy and her husband and their cat Beau (who is drop-dead gorgeous, by the way). I never thought it would take so long for Reacher to come around, but what I’m learning is that I know NOTHIN’. I’ve told Kathy repeatedly that Reacher will always have a home with us if it doesn’t work out, and I was starting to think that he needed to come back here, but now he seems to slowly thawing. I hope that he really does thaw, that he starts to love them and allows them to love him. That he shows them his real lovebug nature and realizes that hey – they’re pretty awesome people and he ended up in a really good situation!

Fingers crossed!

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I found a picture of Clairee and a picture of Drum on my memory stick this morning!

Silly Clairee.

Sweet Drum.

I forgot to tell y’all, but Clairee and Drum were adopted two weeks ago (the Tuesday before I had surgery) – together!!!

Yay, Drum and Clairee!

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Loony Jake and Corbie, taking advantage of the weather.

Gorgeous Corbs.

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Miss Alice, bird watching.

Can I just tell you that I think the addition of Alice to our permanent residents was a really good decision. She’s such a little character, and I know I’ve mentioned it before, but she really seems to have brought Miz Poo out of her shell. Every day, several times a day, I catch Miz Poo PLAYING with Alice. PLAYING. Miz Poo does NOT play with other cats, so you can imagine how amazed I am by this! And as often as not, it’s Miz Poo instigating the play!

Alice’s tiny size does not hold her back at ALL. She might be half the size of the other cats, but she can jump from the floor to the kitchen counters with no problem at all. Last week she discovered the walkway and the platforms in the kitchen, and she’s been spending plenty of time curled up in the cat bed on the platform. I’ve seen Stinkerbelle looking at Alice many times, as if she can’t quite decide what Alice’s deal is.

Alice is friendly enough to me, but there’s no doubt on earth that she’s a daddy’s girl. Every day, 10 minutes before Fred gets home from work, Alice wakes up, stretches, eats, uses the litter box, and then waits for her daddy to come home.

She lubs her daddy.

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Previously
2010: Until then, may all your tunes be loony.
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: I’d hate for him to be able to CLIMB things.
2006: HOT MONKEY SEX, that’s what.
2005: I can tell you this – I’m not terribly fond of my mailman right now.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: Not bad, since it’s been ten years or so since I read the play, eh?
2001: Resolutions for 2001.
2000: Well, apparently “coke” sounded like “coffee” to the Einstein taking my order.

2/10/11 – Thursday

The Goathouse Refuge has received a very generous offer for a matching grant if they can raise $10,000 by the end of March. Please donate if you can, and spread the word. Facebook, email, tweet, or even phone — however you can get the word out! Check it out here! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ … Continue reading “2/10/11 – Thursday”

The Goathouse Refuge has received a very generous offer for a matching grant if they can raise $10,000 by the end of March.

Please donate if you can, and spread the word. Facebook, email, tweet, or even phone — however you can get the word out!

Check it out here!

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Yesterday was apparently my heavy lifting day. I went up into town and stocked up on bird seed, and then I stocked up on Diet Coke, and then I stocked up on cat food. That won’t get us all the way through the next six weeks ’til I can lift all that heavy stuff again, but it should buy us a few weeks.

Every time I go in for surgery or am going to Maine (or Pennsylvania), I get into this kind of obsessive mindset and decide that there’s one thing that I ABSOLUTELY MUST HAVE RIGHT NOW.

This time around, that one thing was a travel pillow – you know, those u-shaped pillows that support your head when you’re sleeping upright? Well, I’ll be sleeping in the recliner for at least a while, so I absolutely HAD TO HAVE one of those pillows. Tuesday when I was on my way home from the recycling center, I stopped by Walmart to see if they had any. They had one, a memory foam pillow, but it was in a box I couldn’t open without breaking the tape, and I wanted to try it on for size and make sure it wouldn’t be too tight around my neck or bother my ears or anything.

(I’m going to have incisions around my ears, and I imagine that having a pillow squeeze on those would be annoyingly painful.)

Yesterday, I ran to Kohl’s to see if THEY had one of those pillows. They’re renovating the store, so I wandered around the pillow section for a while. I had just decided they didn’t have any of the travel pillows and was about to walk out the door when it hit me that – dur – I should maybe look in the section with the suitcases and such. I did, and they did have a couple, so I bought one.

NOW what’m I gonna obsess about ’til tomorrow morning?

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Okay, so, the story on Reacher.

First, I have to tell you a sad back story. Do you remember Maura? We had her about a year ago, got her while I was recovering from my hysterectomy. We thought she was pregnant, but as it turned out, she was never pregnant, was just a bit tubby and enjoying the attention and extra food she was getting from we morons who thought for sure she was going to drop those babies ANY moment.

Kathy adopted Maura in May and took her home to Birmingham. Maura settled in quickly, and things were going just fine (Maura was a total lovebug). And then, sadly, Maura passed away unexpectedly while I was in Maine last July. I got the email from Kathy while I was in Maine, and I intended to write about her when I got home, but I never did.

So that is very sad news, but it does lead to good news: Kathy and her husband decided that they were ready to adopt again, and I suggested Reacher because I fully believe that once he’s past his fear of being in a new home, he will reveal his sweet loving nature – like I’ve told Kathy repeatedly, Reacher is a lover of people AND cats; not surprising, since he’s grown up in this house where kittens come and go regularly. Kathy has a boy cat, Beau, who needs a friend, and I think that once things have settled down they’ll end up the best of friends.

And, of course, if for any reason it doesn’t work out, Reacher will always have a home with us.

The good thing about this, of course, is that I can harass Kathy for updates on how Reacher’s doing! And you know I’ll be sure to pass it along to y’all.

Kathy arrived around 7:30 last night to pick up Reacher. As soon as she stepped through the door, Reacher vamoosed. I sent Fred upstairs with the carrier to get him while Kathy signed the adoption papers. We talked for a few moments, and in that time Reacher went from trying to dig his way out of the carrier to laying down and looking fairly relaxed.

I missed him as soon as he was gone, but I know he’s going to a great home and I think he’s going to be very happy.

I snapped a few last pictures of him, of course.

A last snuggle with the princess.

Tommy makes sure he’s spiffied up for his new mom.

Snuggling with Tom.

And an absolutely terrible picture I snapped, right before they left.

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And then there was one (Bookworm). Corbie wonders if this means he gets Reacher’s snackin’?

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Princess Alice of Smugonia, hoggin’ the Permanent Residents section of the posts. Smugly.

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Previously
2010: GOODBYE, ORGAN THAT SHALL NOT BE NAMED! DON’T LET THE CERVIX HIT YOU IN THE TUBES (?) ON YOUR WAY OUT!
2009: Usually, Fred’s Ross and I’m Chandler. Or Joey. Except that I’m kinda ditzy like Phoebe. I am an amalgam of Friends characters!
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: Unless maybe it’s a magic leotard and the source of all her powers?
2005: “Life’s too fucking short to read books that suck.”
2004: Damn you, DVR! I WANT to love you, but you’re toying with my emotions!
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: I’m not sure what effect, if any, it had on her.

2/9/11 – Wednesday

The Goathouse Refuge has received a very generous offer for a matching grant if they can raise $10,000 by the end of March.

Please donate if you can, and spread the word. Facebook, email, tweet, or even phone — however you can get the word out!

Check it out here!

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“Where’s my Mama?”, starring Reacher.

“Is that my Mama? Oh. No, that’s a bird.”

“Is THAT my Mama? Oh. No, that’s the dog who lives next door. Where’s my Mama?”

“My Mama is NOT behind this bucket.”

“My Mama is NOT over in that corner of the yard chattering at squirrels. That’s Corbie.”

“My Mama is not IN the bucket!”

“Dude! She’s not up here!”

“I’ll take a nap while I’m waiting. Then I need to get gussied up in my finest finery!”

“Hm. This seems a little small. Perhaps I’ve gained a little weight since I had my special going-home outfit commissioned!”

“Maybe I need to eat a little and let my super-special going-home vest stretch a bit.”

“I just don’t get this high-fashion nonsense. Is it supposed to fit like this? I guess so…”

“Okay, Mama! I’m ready for you!”

Patience, Reacher-Creature. She’ll be here before the end of the day, weather willing!

I forgot to mention that Reacher and Corbie turned one yesterday. Happy birthday, sweet boys!

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“I don’t know who his Mama is, but he can’t have MY DADDY.”

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Previously
2010: The worst part of having surgery is having to wait for it to be time to HAVE the surgery.
2009: “They’re rejects from the nursery!”
2008: No entry.
2007: Beach Roses (fiction).
2006: Giggling like that is EXACTLY something Fred would do.
2005: Taking the day off.
2004: I don’t believe I mentioned that the Bean has tapeworms.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: And I yelled “Any fucking thing else?!”, addressing, I guess, God.
2000: Okay, so I don’t have much to say today.

2/8/11 – Tuesday

The Goathouse Refuge has received a very generous offer for a matching grant if they can raise $10,000 by the end of March.

Please donate if you can, and spread the word. Facebook, email, tweet, or even phone — however you can get the word out!

Check it out here!

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I spent this past weekend in a flurry of cooking. We should now be all set for dinners for at least the next month, if not longer. The freezer is packed with dishes that Fred only has to let thaw and then bake for a specified amount of time, since I won’t be able to lift anything for a while.

(Funny enough, my entry from a year ago talks about how I spent the previous weekend cooking meals to freeze so Fred wouldn’t have to cook while I recovered from my hysterectomy! My hysterectomy was on 2/10/10. My surgery this year is on 2/11/11. I wonder what’s in store for 2/12/12??)

The house will be cleaned from top to bottom on Thursday, including litter boxes, and what laundry there is will be done. I’m going to move my couch to the other end of the room, and Fred will bring the recliner down from upstairs for me. I suspect (if past surgical recoveries are anything to judge by) that in the recliner is where I’ll be sleeping for at least the first week.

Now if Friday would just GET HERE already, I’d be happy!

We went up into town Saturday afternoon to visit the liquor store. I ordered some fancypants vanilla beans from Penzey’s a few weeks ago, because I wanted to make my own vanilla extract. I’ve done it in small bottles in the past and loved the result, but I bake a lot and go through vanilla pretty quickly, so I wanted to do the big-bottle version of it.

I don’t drink, I’m sure I’ve mentioned. I haven’t had any alcohol since before my weight loss surgery in 2006, and it was probably at least a couple of years before that that I’d had any. In theory I like the occasional strawberry daiquiri, but after I had weight loss surgery, I was at first worried what the effect would be on my system, and these days I’m not interested enough in it to give it a try.

That said, I have to say that when we walked into the ABC store to buy a bottle of vodka, everything in there looked like it would be VERY tasty. I was walking around thinking “We should get some of that! And that! And that!” before Fred dragged me over to the wall o’ vodka. I have zilch experience with buying liquor, so we had to have a long discussion about which liquor was better and which was the rotgut stuff. We ended up getting a bottle that wasn’t quite top end stuff, but close to it.

(I’d tell you the name brand, but I don’t remember and I don’t want to get up and look.)

I’m suddenly reminded that once upon a time – I must have been… maybe 26? – I decided that I needed to have a signature drink. And I’m a badass, right? So one evening when my sister and I went out for dinner, I ordered scotch on the rocks.

Ugh. Gad. NAS-TAY.

I think I’ll stick with Diet Coke, thanks.

ANYway, I got my big bottle of vanilla extract made, and now it’s steeping in the cabinet for about three months, needing to be shaken every so often. I put reminders in my Google Calendar so I’ll remember to shake it at least once a week.

Speaking of, I had forgotten what kind of alcohol I needed in order to make the extract, and so I did a Google search, and someone had instructions on how to make extract to give for gifts. The last step in the process, after letting it steep for a few months, was to pour the liquid through a filter to remove the specks of vanilla from the extract.

Really? REALLY? There are people who’d take the vanilla specks OUT of the extract? So if I make extract to give as gifts, should I filter the vanilla specks out? Because that seems odd to me. My favorite part of home-made extract are those tasty little flecks!

What say you guys? If someone gave you a bottle of homemade vanilla extract and there were specks of vanilla floating around, would you be all “Ewwww, vanilla specks!” or “Vanilla specks! Awesome!”

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We are working our way through Sons of Anarchy, currently about halfway through the second season. Last night we were watching the one where

SPOILERS IN THIS NEXT LITTLE SECTION

the guys are in jail, and Clay and Jax are fighting, and what the hell was that dance Jax was doing? He’d punch Clay and then go reeling away from Clay and stumble around and then go back at Clay. I called it his “Gumby dance”, and Fred and I guffawed through the rest of the scene.

SPOILERS OVER

So Tara was angry or upset about something – which is not uncommon for Tara, amiright? – and I’ve been thinking all along that she really reminds me of someone, and finally last night it hit me just who she looks like.

Resemblance is uncanny, no?

(Note: I did not like Tara at ALL during the first season, but she’s really growing on me during season 2.)

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Okay, most of you guessed the exciting news!

Last week, I talked to the shelter manager about Alice. We had put her on Prednisone to see if that would help the wheeziness. It didn’t, and the vet said that likely the scar tissue that was spotted at the top of Alice’s trachea was responsible for the occasional congested-sounding noises Alice was making. Since it didn’t bother Alice and the Prednisone wasn’t helping, there was probably nothing to be done.

I told her that Alice had had all her vaccinations and we decided that Alice was ready to go to Petsmart. But I knew that Fred had gotten attached to her, so I said that I’d double-check with him, and let her know what the deal was with Alice.

Long story short, I talked to Fred and we dithered back and forth over whether to add Alice to the permanent residents. I wasn’t resistant to the idea, honestly, but I wanted to know, one way or the other. He wouldn’t commit – wouldn’t actually say “I want to keep her”, and in fact said that if she were being adopted directly from our house and was going to someone else’s house without having to spend time at Petsmart, he’d be okay with that – and so I emailed and said “Alice is ready when there’s room.”

Well. There was room for Alice on Friday! So I packed her up and brought her bed and her stuffed Tigger, and took her to Petsmart. She was glad to see Rhyme, and she ran and hid when I first let her out of the carrier, but after a few minutes she was walking around exploring, her tail straight up in the air.

When Fred got home from work that afternoon, he immediately began saying I should go get Alice back and bring her home. WELL. I figured if he was THAT desperate to get her home again, he could very well go into Huntsville and get her himself! We talked, we dithered, we went back and forth, and then we went to bed without having made a decision.

The next morning, we dithered some more. And then finally Fred said “I think we should go get her.”

And so we did. Alice Nelson – just “Alice” for now – is the latest permanent resident to join the Anderson household. She loves Fred with a passion (but if he’s not around, she’s friendly enough to me, too) and he loves her back.

This is the EXACT same way we ended up with Stinkerbelle, by the way. As several people have pointed out to me, apparently the way to stay around for good is to suck up to Fred!

(Those of you who weren’t able to figure it out, you’ll note that Alice’s picture was moved out of the “fosters” list, and in fact if you went to the foster page about her, it says at the bottom that we’d adopted her on the 5th. She has her very own Permanent Residents page, too.)

Yes, I did say last week that we needed to reduce the number of cats in this house. HOWEVER, if you consider that at one point last Fall I was 99% sure we were going to end up keeping all four Bookworms, this means we’re actually DOWN from where we were.

(Fred calls that “Robyn math”!)

(Also, we didn’t have a calitabby yet. We needed one for the collection!)

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So. Aaaaaactually, there wasn’t just one thing that was AMAZING news this weekend. There were TWO things.

You know the first one, that we decided to keep Alice.

The second? Reacher will be going to his forever home later this week. I’m not going to give you the details yet, because I don’t want to jinx it. You know how I am. Suffice it to say that he’s going to a great home and I know he’s going to be spoiled rotten. I’ll give you more details once he’s gone home.

With Buster being adopted last Fall and Rhyme being adopted last weekend, this leaves us with one Bookworm, Corbie.

At the moment, Corbie is still our foster. I don’t think it would surprise any of you if he ended up staying permanently – but for now, he’s still classified as a foster, he’s still available for adoption, and he’s post on Petfinder.

We never expected someone to see Buster’s picture in the book at the adoption center, so it’s possible it could happen with Corbie, too! We’ll see.

Corbie and Reacher, fighting.

Reacher is not a small cat – he’s a big chunk of man. I told the people who were thinking of adopting Rhyme and Corbie last month that I called them Small (Corbie), Medium (Rhyme) and Large (Reacher). Fred says Reacher is shaped like a Who in Whoville (that’s a How the Grinch Stole Christmas reference), which led me to dub him Reachie Lou Who.

Brudders.

::thlurrrp::

Corbie’s face cracks me UP.

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She might be little, but it doesn’t stop the princess from getting where she wants to go. She climbed into the utility sink to sniff around.

“What?”

“You’re not my daddy. YOU can’t tell me what to do!” Brat.

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You’ve heard of Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice?

(Just say “yes”)

Meet…

Corbie & Robyn & Fred & Alice.

(Thanks to Jean, who was inspired and whipped this up over the weekend. It cracks me up every time I look at it, particularly that smug look on Fred’s face!)

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Previously
2010: I don’t know how on earth we’re ever going to dig out from under all that.
2009: No entry.
2008: Which of your cats, if they were human, would you actually want to hang around the most?
2007: I judiciously left off the “You fucking motherfucking asshole.” part.
2006: And then the spud said “Is he trying to go to Narnia?”
2005: I’ll take my anonymous life, thank you.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: “What?” he said. “I WASN’T geeky!”
2001: No entry.
2000: Tomorrow, I’m going to go see Dr. Judy for my ear, out of which I still cannot hear anything but constant white noise.

2/7/11 – Monday

Okay, just a super-quick one this morning. I got stuff to do! It was a VERY good weekend! Alice and Rhyme were both adopted on Saturday! Drum and Clairee were not – but there was some interest in them, so they may very well be adopted on Tuesday. Fingers crossed. Here are the rest of … Continue reading “2/7/11 – Monday”

Okay, just a super-quick one this morning. I got stuff to do! It was a VERY good weekend!

Alice and Rhyme were both adopted on Saturday!

Drum and Clairee were not – but there was some interest in them, so they may very well be adopted on Tuesday. Fingers crossed.

Here are the rest of the Drum and Clairee pics I took. I’m telling you, these cats are so lovely, I couldn’t stop taking pictures of them!

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I have NEWS!!!! for y’all, but I want to be able to take my time writing about it, so I’m saving it for tomorrow. HOWEVER!!!

::waving hands wildly::

if you look around carefully and pay attention to your SURROUNDINGS, so to speak, you may be able to figure it out.

::cutting eyes to the left and right::

(Those of you who already know, don’t spoil it! You may, however, do a “Nyah, nyah, nyah, IIIIIIIIII know what it is!” dance in the comments if you’d like!)

Here, have some more exclamation points!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

See you tomorrow!

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Miz Poo, in the foster room. That is the BEST room in the house for fosters, it gets lots of morning sun. And when there are no fosters in there, the permanent residents like to hang out and soak up the sun.

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Previously
2010: Petsmart kitties.
2009: “IF I GET PIG SHIT ON ME, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!”
2008: Please don’t tell me she’s a flighty mess in real life.
2007: She became entirely liquid somehow, and flowed through my fingers and across the room, ending up under the bed.
2006: I think that the next thing Apple should create is a cell phone/ iPod player.
2005: Yes, I use the same kind of lotion as my CAT.
2004: No entry.
2003: Anyway. Enough about my underwear.
2002: You’ve been warned, skank hos out there who would swoop down upon my husband in his grief and get him to marry you.
2001: Yeah, that’s me, not giving a shit if they can see me or not…
2000: Really, what other journaller will thrill you with pictures from the litter box?

2/4/11 – Friday

I’m wondering if any of your three older cats like to jump up on the shelves in the kitchen -(which was a great idea, by the way) – or are their high places days over? Miz Poo doesn’t really jump up anywhere unless it’s to be next to a person (the highest place I’ve seen … Continue reading “2/4/11 – Friday”

I’m wondering if any of your three older cats like to jump up on the shelves in the kitchen -(which was a great idea, by the way) – or are their high places days over?

Miz Poo doesn’t really jump up anywhere unless it’s to be next to a person (the highest place I’ve seen her in recent memory would be the back of the couch – just before she stepped down on me to settle in), and Spanky doesn’t go any higher than the kitchen countertops. Actually, Spanky on the countertops is a relatively new development, and he seems kind of unsure what exactly he’s doing up there. He jumps up, looks around, glares at the cats on the kitchen floor, and then jumps back down. Maxi doesn’t jump up on the shelves in the kitchen, but she’s made the platform in the front room all hers.

She spends a lot of time up there in the evenings and during the days when it’s cold outside. Occasionally Jake or Elwood will go up there when she’s off roaming outside somewhere, but for the most part it belongs to her.

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That might have been me with the initial golf ball suggestion because I remember writing about it here before. 🙂

In addition to the golf balls (which act as “obstacles to the food”), I do more frequent but smaller meals throughout the day which has been very successful. I got an automated pet feeder that can give up to 8 small meals a days when I’m not home – I had one for each cat. I have this one.

Wet food also seems to be less barf-inducing than dry food for my guy. But he won’t always eat the wet food, so I sprinkle a few kibbles of dry food on top, pushing them in a little to embed and coat them in the wet food, and he’ll usually continue to eat the wet food once the dry is all gone.

As well, my barfer is a groomer, so half the barfing was due to fur balls. I got a Furminator brush and it’s really really cut down on the fur balls. So if fur balls are part of the problem, I highly recommend this brush!

Sadly, my big guy who ate all the food was doing so because he had cushings disease (amongst other problems), and he passed away last year. Since then, his brother who is the barfer has slowed down when eating and I suspect it’s because there is no longer competition for that food. So if you can separate to eliminate competition that might help too.

Thanks for the tips, Dee – and I’m sorry to hear about your big guy.

(I second the Furminator love – those brushes are awesome!)

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Curiosity is getting the better of me. Is there a reason why you leave the chicken in the fridge for a few days?

I know with game meats you hang them for a few days before butchering because it tastes better and allows the all the blood to run out. Is it the same thing?

I had to ask Fred for the reason behind letting the chicken “age”, and he said that it’s because it tenderizes the chicken. Judging by the Crockpot Swiss Chicken we had for dinner the other night, I’d say it works well!

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I see you still have the Bookworms. You’ve had them for a pretty long time haven’t you? How long do you usually keep a litter before you take them in to be adopted? The 2 I have now I was only supposed to have for 2 weeks as they were so sick and they would have died at the shelter. They got over the respiratory sickness in about 2 weeks, but then had ringworm. Just finished the oral meds for that yesterday and Luvee developed an eye thing that is now much better as of yesterday. So now we’ve had them a month. They are very social and loving now. I’m thinking they’ll go back on Tuesday. At first we would keep a litter around 2 weeks, but now I’m thinking at least a month is needed for them to be fully social and loving. The ones I had only kept for about 2 weeks seemed to take longer to get adopted and the ones that are here longer were adopted within a week. Thoughts from you my Foster kitty momma Yoda?

March will be a year since the Bookworms came to live with us – they were about five weeks old at the time.

I think that on average, kittens stay with us for about 2 months before they go to the adoption center. There are those who stay for shorter periods of time, and some who stay longer, but 2 months is about average. Really, it all depends on the kittens – some of them come to us perfectly socialized, and some of them need more time. In a perfect fostering situation, they come to us, get over whatever issues they arrive with (almost all of our fosters come to us with coccidia or giardia – or BOTH), and then have a few weeks to have the run of the house, get used to the noise of the TV, decide that the vacuum cleaner won’t eat them (or decide that it will!), and just generally relax into what it’s like to live in a house with people and other cats.

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We need an invisible fence for our barn cats as we are moving. I was wondering what brand of fence you use and how long the batteries last in the collars?

PetSafe makes the fence and collars we use, and this is the system we use.

That’s the fence (which we run along the bottom of the fence in our back yard and around the tops of the gates), and we use both the collar on that page, as well as this kind of collar.

I would say that the batteries for the collars (I buy the batteries on eBay) probably last for at least 2 months, if not longer. You can also find the collars on eBay for less than you’d pay direct from PetSafe.

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Question (and if you’ve already addressed this, I apologize; I promise I’m not a Damn Skimmer!): What does your doctor say is your expected recuperation period following the surgery? You always seem to bounce back really quickly, but I was wondering, with numerous body parts involved this time, if you were going to be out of commission a bit longer than usual.

He told me that it’d be the standard 6 weeks, and I’m hoping it doesn’t take any longer than that because I don’t want my recovery time to mess with plantin’ (the garden) time!

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I’m just writing to my favourite cat blogger/guru with a query. We’ve just adopted two rescue cats here in the UK. They’ve settled in really well and we are loving having cats again after our old cat died in autumn last year. One small query though – one of the cats is obsessed with the water tap (faucet). He will frequently jump on the worktop or sink in the bathroom and lick the tap. Sometime the tap dribbles and he’ll sit and drink any water that comes out. I wondered if you’d had this problem with any of your cats and if anything can be done to discourage him? We put a full bowl of fresh water out every day for them, which they do drink from, but still doesn’t seem to stop the obsession with the faucet.

Any guidance welcome – I just can’t help thinking it’s not too hygenic to be using water from a tap that a cat has licked !!

I was going to recommend getting a cat water fountain (my cats use both the Petmate and the Drinkwell – I find the Petmate to be quieter, so the fountain in the upstairs bathroom (directly across the hall from my bedroom) is a Petmate. They don’t seem to prefer one kind over the other, though. Leonore had some advice (in case you missed it in the comments):

One of my cats is also fascinated with the faucet and loves to drink from it. She’ll lick the actual faucet sometimes but usually she’ll go for the puddle in the sink while waiting for me to turn the water on. She does drink from her bowl but prefers the faucet when she can get it.

From everything I’ve read, this is fairly normal behavior for a cat. There are a couple of theories: the cat prefers the fresher water straight from the tap; she is attracted to the movement of the flowing water; cats like to “find” their food and water, so “finding” running water in the sink is more appealing than the stagnant water in the bowl; cats prefer their water source to be farther away from their food.

As for the hygiene issue, I never really thought of it and don’t really know if it would be a big deal at all. I suppose if you’re worried about it, just running the water hot for a few seconds might wash away any germs left behind. Or you could always keep disinfecting wipes nearby and give the faucet head a quick wipe before using it. But I would probably be more worried about the cat ingesting any chemicals from the wipes!

Oh yeah, here’s an article I found that might be useful for you:

How to stop a cat from drinking out of a faucet.

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So who are the pee offenders do you think? (Or are they all crafty and make darn sure they can’t ever be busted?) I seem to recall you saying Sugarbutt has been guilty of it before. Do some of them get princessy? Hope they settle down soon! What number of cats do you think is good for keeping things stable around your home? (I hope MY looney Jake is not among them… I luurve him, and plan to steal him one day!;) )

Before Monday, I would have told you that Sugarbutt and Joe Bob are the offenders. However, Monday evening I was making dinner and goddamn Joe Bob came into the kitchen and casually backed up to one of the cabinets, sprayed it, and sauntered off. I didn’t realize immediately what he was doing, or I would have had a stronger reaction. As it was, I swore up a storm, got out the spray bottle, and cleaned it up.

Not two minutes later, Spanky walked into the kitchen, backed up to the pantry (diagonal across the kitchen from where Joe Bob had sprayed) and let out a full pee WHILE I STOOD RIGHT THERE. I was so outraged that I bellowed his name, which made him jump and run off, and Fred came running from the other room to see what the hell was going on.

So I can say that Joe Bob and Spanky are the ones who’ve sprayed various spots of the kitchen (I think you can imagine how lovely I find this) and I think Sugarbutt contributes to other spots in the house.

While I blamed the spraying to the large number of cats in the house, it didn’t actually start until after the Bradys went off to Petsmart – which lessened the number of cats in the house – so I don’t know what the hell the issue is. I’m vigilant about cleaning up the spray, and I’ve plugged in Feli-Way plug-ins in various places through the house (though I’ve heard it can take up to 30 days to start working?). The spraying seems to have lessened this week – though not stopped completely – and I’m hoping that this pissapalooza is nearing an end.

I truly don’t know what number of cats in the house would be the “right” number – I think it depends more on the cats’ personalities, and at the moment Spanky and Joe Bob seem to be battling for alpha cat status in the house. I never would have guessed Spanky to be one of the offenders, honestly, it was shocking to see!

Loony Jake would never pee outside of the litter box. He’s a GOOD boy (and I’m praying that just saying that will make it so!)

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Saw this, thought of you. Hope you get over the jumpies soon

6 reasons kittens suck.

So true!

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I had a Robyn/Fred dream last night. I just showed up at your house, since you were always inviting people to just stop by. Not only that, I just walked into your house and waited for you to see me! You were dressed in a football jersey (you had long blond hair and weighed about 100 pounds) and were about to head off to a “player’s meeting”. You said this was your “first day back” but I didn’t ask where you had been, since I didn’t want you to think I was a skimmer! You made me hide in the bathroom when Fred came home and you were telling him about this crazy woman. Then I woke up. The End.

Bwahah, that’s us! Always inviting people to stop by!

Have I mentioned that I love it when you guys dream about us? 🙂

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Taking those babies to Petsmart is one of the toughest things you must have to do, but it’s better for all. I came across this site and thought this might be a good project for Fred (lol).

Cat ladders.

I think we could definitely use some cat ladders in this house!

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Ruby our cocker is a cat chaser. Elphaba has grown up with it I think an older cat would freak. I scold Ruby but nothing seems to work. She doesn’t hurt her just tortures her with the chasing. I wonder if any cat/dog households have this issue and a possible solution? She seems to do it more now than when Elph was smaller. Ruby was less than two when she got here and Elphaba was only four months old when Ruby moved in.

Readers, any suggestions on how to get a dog to stop chasing a cat? Y’all know I have no idea, but I’m sure someone out there has suggestions!

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Hopefully over time things will mesh for you and the pee protests will stop.

The only practical thing I can think of that might help is more litter pans. We have a couple of “two-seater” arrangements, and no problems with random peeing through the house.

And we all know how chic a house full of litter pans is! 🙂

I don’t think that more litter pans would help, since it’s a territorial type spraying rather than having-to-pee. I’m resisting adding more litter boxes to any other areas in the house – but I might be forced to whether I want to or not!

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Whoopie pies! Did you already hear about this? If not, I thought you’d like to know! 🙂 I remember seeing your recipe for these.

Maine legislature takes on whoopie pies.

My favorite whoopie pies are the ones from Wicked Whoopies. And my favorite flavor combination? Chocolate with the white filling. I don’t like all the different fancy flavors.

I very much support whoopie pies as the Maine state dessert! I think the Maine state legislature takes itself a bit too seriously – NOT making the whoopie pie the Maine state dessert is NOT going to stop anyone from eating them, for god’s sake.

(I do like me some blueberry pie, though!)

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I wonder if Miz Poo reminds Alice of her mother?
Just a thought. 🙂

Entirely possible! Have I shared with y’all Fred’s suggestion that Alice is from Martin’s litter? Remember, Martin who Fred captured over the summer? I bet she is his sister – and I’d sure like to know where exactly she was all that time!

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Yesterday, I got to observe the other side of a animal surrender. Another new employee in my training class was late yesterday. He had to rush his dog to the vet after they dropped the kids off at school. He knew something bad was wrong. In the end, his wife and he had to decide to surrender the dog. She needed emergency surgery and $1000s in costs. He’s like me – been off work for awhile, went back to school and starting a brand new job that doesn’t pay a lot.

This was what I saw – a very upset man who had to make the hardest decision. He was worried about the dog, but knew he will never know how she’s doing. He dreaded having to tell his kids when he got home. He was grateful that the vet was able to connect him with a rescue who had foster families lined up for this type of situation. He was so glad, because he said the dog did not deserve to be put down, but he just could not handle the cost.

The animal lovers among us are prone to judge people like my co-worker, but I realized that there are always two sides to the story. My heart broke right along with his yesterday.

Very very sad – I’m so glad that the vet was able to connect him with a rescue!

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It’s great that Alice is now sweet as well as petite! Although now I’m curious as to what Fred’s t-shirt slogan is. Is it the key to his kitten-taming abilities?

I believe it says something along the lines of “No need to yell. I’m still not listening.” He has a large selection of t-shirts with obnoxious sayings on them. I bought a large number of them for him. 🙂

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I dropped Drum and Clairee off at the adoption center yesterday morning. I spent time with Rhyme while I was there, and I also let Heaven’s three small kittens out to play for a while. One of Heaven’s kittens – Flake – has a crush on Rhyme. Rhyme went over to the scratching post and sharpened his claws. Flake did the same. Rhyme batted at a toy mouse. Flake did the same. Rhyme jumped up on top of the storage cart… and Flake sat there and looked up at him and wished she was big enough to do the same! It was seriously adorable.

Rhyme came to me for snuggles several times, but was mostly interested in playing. Seeing him run around and play and seem just generally happy was comforting. He’s such a sweet boy that I really hope he finds a forever home this weekend!

Rhyme, showing Reacher who the boss is.

Sharpening his claws on the scratching post ’cause he’s a good boy.

In bed with Reacher (that’s Corbie in the foreground, obv.)

I lied when I said I was going to share the rest of the pictures I took of Drum and Clairee today. I took SO many of them Wednesday that I’ll share some of them now and then the rest on Monday. I’m not kidding when I said I couldn’t stop taking pictures of these two gorgeous sweeties!

She’s a little bit of a goofball.

Drum, keeping an eye on his wacky sister.

I LOVE her whiskers.

Fred liked Drum’s caramel-colored belly.

I think it probably comes across in the pictures that these cats were in wonderful shape. They were clearly well cared for in the home where they lived for a year, and their father was very sad to be giving them up. One of the things I love about Challenger’s House is that they’ll always take back cats they adopted out, even if it’s years and years after they were adopted.

As sweet and friendly and beautiful as Drum and Clairee are, I expect they’ll be adopted quickly!

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Miss Alice loves to watch those birds!

Silly girl.

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“Who, ME? Pee on the kitchen cabinet? Why, I’d never! I’m sure it was all Joe Bob’s fault.”

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Previously
2010: He looked confused and then looked back toward the back forty as though perhaps I was lying to him, and he’d see an army of fish marching toward us to prove that I was a big lying liar.
2009: Dogs like to chew! Who knew?
2008: “WHERE’S THE SCAR?! HERE ARE HIS WRISTS, WHERE’S THE SCAAAAAAAAAAR?!”
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: How does one become a house appraiser?
2004: I told Fred about how little things remind me anew of our loss strike me when I’m least expecting it, and I cried again.
2003: And, oh and does fred annoy you? Not any more than I annoy him, probably. 🙂
2002: See something on the floor? Sit on it.
2001: No entry.
2000: Here’s a cute story to satiate your bitchypoo jones until then

2/3/11 – Thursday

Sights from around Crooked Acres. “It’s too cold out there for us, lady. We’ll just stay in here and keep warm, thanks.” Pigs are off to freezer camp this weekend. I’ve upped their daily ration of chocolate chip cookies. ::thlurrp:: Dancin’ pup. I love these dawgs. In the background, the raised beds we put behind … Continue reading “2/3/11 – Thursday”

Sights from around Crooked Acres.

“It’s too cold out there for us, lady. We’ll just stay in here and keep warm, thanks.”

Pigs are off to freezer camp this weekend. I’ve upped their daily ration of chocolate chip cookies.

::thlurrp::

Dancin’ pup.

I love these dawgs.

In the background, the raised beds we put behind the back yard last summer. In the foreground, the new raised bed (not filled yet). I haven’t decided what I’m going to plant where, but now I’ve got plenty of room to plant it in!

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Yesterday morning, I headed out to the adoption center to check on Rhyme and Corbie. I decided that I’d go and spend a little time with them each day for at least the first week, and maybe they wouldn’t be as scared.

Well, really, it wasn’t Rhyme I was worried about – he’s not a scaredy-cat. But when I left Petsmart Tuesday, Corbie was hiding in the litter box looking terrified. I wanted to cuddle and reassure him in hopes that he’d be less scared. I figured it was worth a try, anyway.

When I got there, Rhyme was hanging out in the cage, and Corbie was hiding in the litter box. I spoke to them through the glass, and they both perked up. A manager let me into the cat room, and when I opened the door to the cage, Rhyme came out and meowed at me, then started sniffing around, checking out a toy on the floor, and just generally acting like himself.

Corbie had to be coaxed out of the litter box, and when I picked him up, he hid his head under my chin and shook. I was there about half an hour, and Corbie shook the entire time. Finally, I called Fred and then I called the shelter manager.

I hereby officially give up. Corbie and Reacher will not be making the journey to Petsmart again. If someone stumbles across their pictures and descriptions on Petfinder or in the book at the adoption center or even on my site and falls in love with them, that would be fabulous. If not, well, they’ve got a safe place here as long as they need one.

I moved Rhyme from the big cage he was sharing with Corbie, to a medium-sized cage. I feel sad, leaving Rhyme there all alone, but unlike Reacher and Corbie, Rhyme is fairly outgoing. He’s also personable and very pretty, and I don’t worry about him the way I would have worried about leaving Corbie there. I believe that Rhyme will be adopted quickly because he’s such a sweet and friendly boy.

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Since there’s a large cage available at the adoption center, Drum and Clairee (who came home with me Tuesday) will be going to the adoption center today. That was fast!

Drum and Clairee grew up to be such beautiful cats that I literally took hundreds of pictures of them yesterday. You’ll forgive me for posting so many pictures of cats who were only here about 48 hours, won’t you?

First, this is what they looked like one year ago:

Clairee.

Drum.

This is Clairee. One thing I love about her is the sprinkling of white hairs on her back.

And on the right is Drum. He looks like he could be a Bookworm, doesn’t he?

Watching the teaser toy.

Clairee in the front, Drum in the back.

Check out the attitude they’re giving each other!

They’re so sweet and playful, these two.

Drum, thinking deep thoughts.

“Hallo, lady.”

Clairee swishes by.

She has got the MOST incredible eyes.

The rest of their pictures will be posted tomorrow.

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PS: Jan Brady was adopted Tuesday night!!!

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Newt in the sun on the side porch. Good ol’ Newtles.

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Previously
2010: I have to admit that Fred’s the one who started referring to it as Gen Pop, but I picked it up immediately.
2009: [Have you ever…?]
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: “How do they grow salt?”
2004: Stalkers, beware!
2003: Did you hear that Tubby was a hero over the weekend?
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Can I just say that I loathe the hell out of those gaunt, haggard-looking bitches, Joan and Melissa Rivers?

2/2/11 – Kitteh Wednesday

How tiny IS Tiny Alice? Bird watching, near Sugarbutt. Watching whatever Miz Poo’s watching. Hanging out on the heated bed with Miz Poo (I think Alice has a bit of a crush). Sooner or later, they all end up in bed with Tommy. Grabbing for Rhyme. In a heated bed with Reacher. She doesn’t look … Continue reading “2/2/11 – Kitteh Wednesday”

How tiny IS Tiny Alice?

Bird watching, near Sugarbutt.

Watching whatever Miz Poo’s watching.

Hanging out on the heated bed with Miz Poo (I think Alice has a bit of a crush).

Sooner or later, they all end up in bed with Tommy.

Grabbing for Rhyme.

In a heated bed with Reacher. She doesn’t look so very tiny here…

..until you realize she’s actually laying on TOP of him.

Tellin’ secrets.

And now here she is, next to him. Keep in mind he’s only 4 months older than she is.

Wee Alice in the Zappos box.

Reacher won’t even come close to fitting in that same box.

Smug Alice on Fred’s arm.

And great big Elwood, for comparison.

Tomorrow, pics of Drum and Clairee (they grew up to be gorgeous, of course), and some shots of Rhyme and Corbie I haven’t shared yet.

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Previously
2010: The only question is what the hell Kate Beckinsale and Tom Skerritt were doing sleepwalking through this piece of shit.
2009: I was fairly certain one end of the piece of roofing was going to come right through the window and split my skull in half, but luckily I was incorrect about that.
2008: No entry.
2007: Spoiled rotten brats. The cats AND me.
2006: So, that’s the state of things with me.
2005: “Oh my god!” he said. “There’s a dead mole under here!”
2004: The man thinks that “hot” and “good-looking” are the same thing!
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: We all know I’m lazy, but this is ridiculous.