I just noticed that Microsoft Word managed to save a copy of the post I was working on a couple of days ago, and lost (or so I though) when Word stopped responding or went into a catatonic state, or whatever the official terminology is. Although I remember this work as being a lot better, I thought I’d post it anyway, since I wrote it with a really bad headache, so all this suffering shouldn’t be for naught (meaning that misery loves company, so you should have to suffer too).If you read the previous version, you can skip this one if you want. But if you didn’t, then you should, by all that is good and decent, read it now, and thank your lucky stars that Bob the kitten didn’t vomit all over your carpet.
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Sorry about the absence. I haven’t been feeling well, while Scott has been wheeling and dealing with L.A’s movers and shakers, selling his grandfather’s house and getting the elderly gentleman installed in his nursing home. (And since, as William Donohue informed us, all these Hollywood types are Christian-hating, anal sex-loving harlots who would sodomize their own mothers with a smile on their faces, you can see why he might be a tad busy.)But here’s my news: Buster the Foster Dog got adopted at the PetsMart event yesterday. A family saw him online, and drove quite a distance to meet him — and then fell in love with him once they saw him in person (he apparently reminded them of their beloved Pomeranian who passed away last year, although presumably Buster is a tad larger than their Pom was).
So, I gave Buster’s room to Jake, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel whose elderly owner had died. I adopted him, because nobody else wanted him, and because he’s a sweet boy who reminds me of Flossie. (He a Blenheim Cavalier too, only he’s bigger than he should be, and kind of looks like a Cocker Spaniel.) Jake was bought at a pet store, and bred in a puppy mill in the Midwest, so it’s probably not surprising that he has genetic problems – in this case, luxating patellas. (Which means that his back knees have slipped out of joint, causing his hind legs to become bowed.) He can get around, and isn’t in any pain, but he can’t walk more than a couple of blocks at a time, and can’t climb or jump. I’m exploring options right now, while working on helping him to lose some weight (he apparently was fed a diet of puppy food, table scraps, and doggie treats, despite the fact that his extra weight isn’t helping his knees one bit). He seems happy here, and I’m glad that he has a home.
I won’t be able to foster dogs for the rescue group anymore (at least, for the time being), but I think I will try to volunteer to help them in other ways. If nothing else, I will try to remind everyone to spay and neuter their pets, damn it, because rescue groups can’t save every shelter dog out there, and once you’ve looked into the eyes of a pet that is going to be put to sleep the next day just because there isn’t a home for it, you want to smack the irresponsible pet owners who caused the situation.
But in other news, Mirabelle the shelter cat is settling in well. She is still a little wary of the other cats, but loves people, and will nuzzle the faces of all visitors. She often holds her back leg at an odd angle while sitting, so I guess the damage done when she was thrown out of the car is permanent, but it doesn’t seem to trouble her otherwise. Her feline AIDA/ leukemia tests came back negative, and she has had her shots, so she gets free run of the house now (which she loves, after all the time in a cage at the pound). Once I get her fixed, I may try to find her a home, but will probably just keep her, because she really is a sweetie.
Everybody else is fine. Well, Andy, the 18-year-old Himalayan threw up all over the carpet this morning, but he seems okay now.
Jet Jaguar, who got kind of stressed out over Buster’s constant attempts to chase him, is happy again (and is splayed out on the floor by my feet as I type).
Former ferals Tibby (who looks like a Maine Coone now, complete with bushy tail and large size) and Ziggy (who looks like a Norwegian Forest Cat) are beautiful – they are affectionate with me, and love to sit on my lap and be petted, but don’t much care for other people.
My orphan kittens Bix and Kit are about grown up. Bix is an extremely loving, sweet-natured cat, while Kit is demon spawn. As their adoptive mother, I blame nature, not nurture, for what they have become.
Shelter Kittens Bob and Oliver are still completely adorable – Bob is going to be a little tub of lard unless he starts dieting and working out, while Oliver is always going to be small, probably because of the deprivation of his early life. But they are good kittens, and cause me very little trouble – I guess their time in prison taught them some valuable lessons. UPDATE: they USED to cause me very little trouble, but then Bob contracted some kind of kitten ailment, and alternated pooping and vomiting all over the carpet yesterday. But he’s fine now, and is back to being the little purr machine that I’ve come to know and love. Little Oliver is so sweet and innocent looking (I think it’s the big round eyes and the fluffy coat) that it sometimes comes as a shock to see him launching preemptive play attacks on Bob. I guess evil comes in all forms.
And while I’m babbling on about the animals, I would like to publicly thank the following people for their support as I’ve pursued my career goal of becoming the local crazy cat lady:
Robert, Katherine, Linda, David, Jill, Leslie, preznit giv me turkee, D. Sidhe, Edward, Mike, Sue, Robin, Dave, Janice, and The Political Cat [UPDATE: and Charlotte]. Thanks also to Anntichrist Coulter and archie, for their support on their blogs
So, here’s how the assignments work:
Robert, your overseas foster child is Jake. He’s not much work, so all you will need to do is lift him up on the couch when he can’t quite make it, and keep him from eating the new, honking duck toy.
Katherine, you get Flossie. She is very sweet and loving, but unfortunately, she is a thief, and is going to go to hell. Your job is to keep her from stealing all the chew toys and hoarding them. (Experience with dealing with Republicans might be helpful.)
Linda’s orphan is Yodie. Linda, you are in charge of making him shut the hell up and just stop barking when he hears another dog bark, a person walk by the house, a sparrow land, a leaf fall, etc. This is a tough job, but if we pull out now, then the terrorists win.
David will be responsible for Andy. As Andy just sleeps most of the time, it won’t be too demanding. Just let him sleep on your bed, David, and check from time to time to see that he’s breathing.
Jill, you get Jet Jaguar. You need to take him to Kitty fat camp or something – maybe you could get him a spot on “The Biggest Loser.” Also, pet him a lot – he likes that.
Leslie’s foundling is Tibby. Although he must weigh about 16 pounds, he really wants to be a lap cat, and needs to sit on your lap whenever you are at the computer. Don’t let him down!
preznit giv me turkee gets Tibby’s brother, Ziggy. Ziggy LOVES Jet Jaguar (but in a manly, albeit neutered kind of way), and wants to snuggle with him all the time. Jet is from the old school of manliness, and doesn’t appreciate all this cuddling crap. So, Preznit, your job is to keep Tibby from bothering Jet, and to keep Jet from smacking Tibby. Get the White House to come up with a game plan for you, since they seem to have lots of good ideas about ending wars.
D. Sidhe, your overseas foster pet is Kit, the demon spawn (hey, it just worked out that way – sorry). Bring lots of antibiotics for when he attacks your ankles. But he also loves to be petted and snuggled, so maybe bring some lithium to help him with his mood swings.
Edward, you get Bix, the sweetest cat of them all. Bix is so cute and nice and loving that to make things even, you also have to scoop out the litter boxes twice a day. That’s the only way to make things fair.
Mike and Sue are charged with tending to little Bob (he needs two people, because he wants to be on someone’s lap all the time, and one of you may need to eat or go to work or something). Try to keep him from eating everyone else’s food, if you have time.
Robin and Dave get little Oliver Twist. Please teach him let sleeping Bobs lie, and to not eat everyone else’s food. Also, brush him well, because he keeps getting pieces of the cardboard scratching pad in his fur.
Janice, The Political Cat, and Charlotte are co-godmothers to Mirabelle, who loves people and will want to nuzzle up to all them, and sit on their necks while they are typing, and such. I hope they are up to the challenge. They might also have to reassure her that Jet isn’t going to hurt her, and keep her from scratching the vet the next time she goes in for shots (in her defense, it was the young, inexperienced vet, and he did have to give her the rabies shot twice, since he shot the first one through her skin). She will love you all, so be prepared for lots of kitty kisses.
Anyway, your duties start first thing Monday, everyone. Thanks again for your support!
Posted by s.z. on Saturday, January 13th, 2007 at 7:21 pm.
9 responses to "Pet Update: The Director's Cut"
awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! SZ, they sound so cute! Even when they are puking! Not so much the pooping, though.
Mirabelle sounds very much like Hobbes when he was younger. He was a hugger and nuzzler (still does nuzzle from time to time), and was always jumping up on my shoulders when I was at the computer.
Must be a MaineCoon thing…
So. Pics?
(no hurry though, you have your hands FULL, I can tell!)
Mirabelle sounds very much like Hobbes when he was younger. He was a hugger and nuzzler (still does nuzzle from time to time), and was always jumping up on my shoulders when I was at the computer.
Must be a MaineCoon thing…
So. Pics?
(no hurry though, you have your hands FULL, I can tell!) Get the White House to come up with a game plan for you, since they seem to have lots of good ideas about ending wars.
so do I get to invade anembassy and sort the Palestinian issue as well? sounds like it might be as effective
so do I get to invade anembassy and sort the Palestinian issue as well? sounds like it might be as effective
Kit will fit in well with my cat Iala. (What’s a Iala, you ask? Romanian vampire cat. No, seriously. She earned it, too. And yet she’s as good-natured a cat as I’ve ever met–she just likes to play with claws out.) I’m already on some fun new antibiotics, so now’s a good time.
And I sympathize completely. I often, when rereading stuff I’ve written while under the influence of a serious headache, find that I’m nowhere near as witty as I like to think. Sucks, really.
And I sympathize completely. I often, when rereading stuff I’ve written while under the influence of a serious headache, find that I’m nowhere near as witty as I like to think. Sucks, really.
Pardon me for butting in, but maybe carpet isn’t your flooring of choice. With cats and a kid, I’ve always felt that carpet should be disposable. And in fact is, after enough pukings and pooings.
Well, it serves me right for sponsoring Mirabelle. At least she’s not given to bouts of pooping, peeing, and puking on the floors.
Sorry you’ve been feeling so poorly, s.z. I started reading your book this weekend, and I’m afraid you may have angry restaurateurs and their patrons nipping at your heels right along with the pups. I laughed out loud and snorted wasabi out both nostrils. Ow. I blame Bush.
Sorry you’ve been feeling so poorly, s.z. I started reading your book this weekend, and I’m afraid you may have angry restaurateurs and their patrons nipping at your heels right along with the pups. I laughed out loud and snorted wasabi out both nostrils. Ow. I blame Bush.
Even better this time. I just hope that your house is bigger than Tippi Hedren’s, ’cause that is a LOT of critters under one roof!
Bless you, S.Z. You are my very own patron saint to whom I aspire to embody, the patron saint of homeless critters and all things furry & in need of love (except for that neckless hairball Sean Hannity, of course!!!).
Bless you, S.Z. You are my very own patron saint to whom I aspire to embody, the patron saint of homeless critters and all things furry & in need of love (except for that neckless hairball Sean Hannity, of course!!!).
Yay for pet sponsorship! I look forward to having a cat on my neck, as it can’t be any worse than having a 15-pound Pug sitting on my head and trying to eat my hair. Seriously though, you’re doing amazing work with the blog and the menagerie, and I for one am more than happy to help out!
Hooray for Tibby the Lap Cat! I can feel the virtual warmth even as I type.
Little Bob is always welcome to the part of my lap not already taken by my own fuzzy pants. The two of them might actually fit. I work at home most of the time, so I can take longer shifts if Mike has stuff to do.
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