11/23/09 – Monday

If you belong to the Google Groups notify list for this site, my apologies: I don’t know what’s going on. I try to post a message, but it doesn’t seem to go through for about two days. This morning I had an email from Google Groups telling me I had messages to modify from Friday. Hopefully whatever the hell is going on with the notify list will work itself out. It ain’t me, it’s Google Groups, I swear.

 

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FOAM pics of the day.
Food: Half-full bottle of kitten formula.
Outside: The clouds in the sky. I need me some sunshine and warmth, damnit. Wonder if I can convince Fred to move to Florida?
Abstract: Ceiling light in the guest bedroom/ Cookie room.
Myself: Proof that I (very rarely) wear something other than gray hooded sweatshirts. Only when I’m going out into public, though. Who do I have to impress at home?

 

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I am entirely VERY FUCKING TIRED of cats trying to put their assholes directly on my face.

In case you wondered.

 

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Fred made me come out toward the back forty on Saturday because there was something he was pretty sure I was going to want to see.

It appears that the head airheaded turkey in charge, Hjonkie, has decided that he’s a boy. How do we know this? Because he’s been doing a lot of this:

Puffing up his feathers, lowering his wings, strutting back and forth. I am 99% sure he was putting the moves on me.

He looks like a real turkey now!

If it weren’t for their faces, turkeys would be really pretty. But those faces – good lord. That is not a pretty face, right there.

The marauding band of asshole turkeys terrorized a truckload of guys who’d stopped to buy eggs. The guys were waiting for Fred to come back with their eggs, when all of a sudden the turkeys came stomping up from the back forty. And then Hjonkie started displaying his manly feathers, walking around the truck in circle.

I’m 99% sure Hjonkie was putting the moves on the truck.

I suppose, given how big the turkeys are, that it can be a bit daunting to see them all stomping at you. I don’t blame those guys for jumping into the bed of their truck.

But still, it’s funny.

I guess we have guard turkeys now.

“Don’t stop at Crooked Acres! Those turkeys will MESS YOU UP, and then try to sex up your vehicle!”

 

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I’ll be leaving here in a little while to take the Cookies to the vet to be Combo tested. I really could have taken them last week, they were all big enough, but I put it off ’til this week.

For the love of god, please keep your fingers crossed that they show up negative across the board, would you? Like I told Fred, the way this year is going they’re either going to all come up positive for Feline Leukemia or they’ll end up having some sort of extremely rare Siamese-mix disease that the vet has only ever read about in some obscure journal, which will require transplants.

Maybe brain transplants. They could remove the marshmallow Fluff and replace it with pudding! Then we’d have to call them The Puddin’ Heads.

“Hellooooooo, laydeez. Welcome to my lair!”

::thlurrrrrp::

Pensive Blue. I got concerned last week, because Blue had only gained an ounce in the previous week, even though it seemed like she was eating plenty and should have been gaining like her siblings. The shelter manager suggested I give Nutri-Cal a try, so I gave that to her two days in a row, and after that, she needed no help. She’s up to almost a pound and a half – now Keebler’s the smallest of the litter, but he’s gaining just fine.

Advice from me to you: Don’t do a Google search on “Kitten failure to gain weight.” Do yourself a favor and stay FAR away from THAT search string.

Bath time for Baby Blue.

The Cookies get very excited when I open the closet door to put laundry away. They spent over an hour running in and out of the closet on Saturday, sniffing around, climbing on things, falling into the laundry hamper, and then climbing back out. Who knew the closet would hold so much fascination?

 

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Twoooooooo more weeks ’til the Wonkas are retested! I tell them every single day that they’re FIV negative. They just shrug and say “Oh, whatEVERRRRRRRRR.” They’re firmly into that teenage stage. They’re not babies any more!

“I’m growing up, but I still get snuggles…. right?” Of course, goofy Gus. I can’t stop snuggling that ear floof!

Pretty Veruca.

For the life of me, I don’t know what had Veruca in a tizzy, but it cracks me up when they get this floofed.

Mike, also floofed. Jake or Elwood was on the other side of the door in the hallway, trying to figure out how to get through. Mike does not appreciate the idea of interlopers.

 

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Oh, how I adore Elwood‘s goofy, grinning face!

 

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Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: The woman did 9/10 of the work to be done, and I was NOT complaining.
2006: No entry.
2005: I think he might be half skunk.
2004: I do love, love, love the gmail!
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: If you look closely at the picture, you’ll note that it’s very close to the color of bile.