Pet store kitty pics from the last several weeks (I take the pictures, I save them to my hard drive, then I just cannot get motivated to upload them and write a quick pet store kitties pic post, I don’t know why) are here.
So, I got the video camera out early last week with the intention of making movies of the bebbes. The bebbes, however, don’t do a whole lot other than sleep, and since we keep the room so dark and they sleep in the very back of the box, I wasn’t really able to get much footage of them, except for about five minutes of Kaylee (the raccoon) doing her damnedest to nurse. That movie – about five minutes long – will be up later this week, probably Friday. In the meantime, here’s a video of Momma Kara. When I got down on the floor in front of the box and pointed the video camera at the babies, she flopped down between me and them in the interest of getting herself a belly rub.
My favorite part is where she’s kneading the air as I talk to her. My second favorite is about halfway through, when she glances over her shoulder to check on the babies.
Here it is on YouTube:
And if YouTube isn’t your thing, you can see it in mpg format, here. Right-click and save it to your hard drive if you expect to watch it more than once – and you know you will!
For the record, there’s a link in the sidebar to the right, under “me, elsewhere” that will take you to my YouTube “Channel”, which has all the movies I’ve ever uploaded over there.
Friday, shortly after noon, I was hanging out in the foster kitty room, petting Kara. The kittens were sleeping as usual, and Kara was nestled up against me purring like mad as I rubbed her belly. She’d just finished off half a can of kitten food and seemed about ready to take a nap.
She perked up suddenly, and ran over to the door. Sometimes Mister Boogers or Tommy starts sniffing around the bottom of the door, and Kara has to establish the fact that she will rip their faces off their bodies and hang them from the nearest cat tree if they even consider thinking about coming inside and looking at her babies, something she does by growling like a hellcat, hissing loudly, and sticking her paw under the door and waving it around wildly. Usually they’ve already run off like the scaredy-cats they are by the time she gets to the paw-waving step, but she’ll do it just for good measure.
I’ve rolled up a towel and pushed it against the outside of the bottom of the door on the hallway side, but somehow they’ve outsmarted this high-tech blocking technique and have figured out how to pull the towel away from the door for maximum sniffing action.
So when Kara ran over to the door, I figured Tommy or the Boog was out there, and there’d be some hissing and growling. I rolled onto my back and watched to see what would happen.
I was absolutely frozen in horror as the door began swinging open. I knew immediately that I hadn’t made sure the door had latched when I came in earlier, and Mister Boogers in his singleminded sniffing was pushing the door open. I knew there was no way this was going to end happily, and I was certain Mister Boogers would be dead in a matter of seconds, because you do not FUCK with a hormonal postpartum Momma.
My legs flew up into the air, giving me leverage as they came down to hop to my feet. As I got to my feet, I screamed “NOOOOOOOOO!”, knowing that Mister Boogers had not long to live. I ran at the door, arms outstretched, hoping to slam the door shut before the carnage could begin.
“Whuh – okay!” Fred said, and pulled the door closed.
Filled with Spring fever, he’d decided to leave work early and come home to surprise me. Instead, he gave me an adrenalin rush that lasted through most of the rest of the day.
And Mister Boogers lives to het again.
Friday has become my experimentation day when it comes to dinner (and dessert). This week, I decided to try Paula Deen’s Grilled Apple, Bacon and Cheddar Sandwich with Roasted Red Onion Mayo. It was actually a fairly simple recipe – the most labor-intensive part being the roasting of the red onion and the blending of the red onion with mayo – and when we sat down to dinner, I had high hopes.
I don’t know if the problem was that neither of us was all that hungry (we’d eaten a late lunch) or what, but Fred thought it had way too much cheese on it (given, four slices of cheddar are an awful lot for one sandwich), and I thought it would have been better without the bacon. I like bacon every now and again, but I can mostly live without it. We both agreed that the roasted red onion mayo was fabulous, though, and we saved the leftover to have on our hamburgers Saturday night.
For dessert, I made these S’mores Cookies. I love S’mores – LOVE THEM – so I was really looking forward to the cookies. Nothing against the cookies, but I really just didn’t that much care for them. I used the really good Ghiardelli milk chocolate chips, and I love me some toasted marshmallows, and the cookies weren’t bad, they just weren’t anything I’ll really ever crave again. I let everything cool for a long time, but the chocolate just wouldn’t harden and drippy chocolate makes me angry, because I’m a total slob, so upon Fred’s advice, I put the pan in the refrigerator and it turned into a block of concrete. Fred cut a small piece (and practically needed a hammer and chisel to do so) and microwaved it for a few seconds and it softened up just fine, but neither of us was that crazy about the cookies. I told Fred that I thought it would have been better if I’d just put down a layer of graham crackers, then a layer of melted chocolate and then the marshmallows and broiled them to toast them, and Fred said “Those would not be S’mores Cookies. Those would be S’MORES. Just make S’mores, they’d be easier.” True, that.
The pigs gave ’em two hooves up (each, for a total of four hooves), though!
By Saturday morning, I just couldn’t stand it anymore. Kara’s been shedding like it’s her job, and every time I went into the foster room, I would pet her and pet her, and tons of hair would go flying, and I could actually see the thick layer of cat hair on the carpet outside the box where she and her kittens spend all their time, and so I decided it was time. Fred put Kara and the babies in a big carrier, I put the carrier in the bathroom, shut the door, and started vacuuming.
I think I must have vacuumed that rug for about fifteen minutes before I decided I was done, and while I was at it I changed out the towel in the box for a fresh, clean one, and then I filled up the water and food bowls, and when I went into the bathroom to get the carrier, Kara and her babies were sound asleep. Kara woke up when I picked up the carrier, but once back in the foster room, I gently lifted out each of the kittens back into the box, and I don’t think they even woke up.
It’s nice to be able to lay down and get up and not be coated in cat hair.
The kittens’ eyes are not open yet which is causing me no end of worry because as you may or may not have realized by now, I am a total worrywart. I’ve read their eyes should open between 7 and 10 days, and then I read between 7 and 14 days, and now I’ve read that I shouldn’t worry too much until about day 18, and if they’re not open yet, they should go to a vet. I’m sure they’re fine, though, they’re healthy, they’re gaining weight (oh my god, Inara is a porky little thing, and there’s nothing I love more than porky little kittens!), so I’m going to stop worrying.
Okay, no I’m not going to stop worrying. I’ll just try not to harass them about opening their eyes 15 times a day, picking them up and looking closely to see if there are any eyeballs visible yet. Okay, yeah. I’ll probably keep with the harassing, too. OPEN YOUR EYES, BABIES, DAMNIT!
Last night when I was hanging out with Kara and the babies, Kara was off eating her canned kitten food and River decided he was going to explore a little, so he crawled around the towel a bit, and I reached out and petted him. AND HE PURRED FOR ME. Okay, not a lot, but still. PURRING. Because I was petting him!
Clearly he is a genius. Now, if he’d just open his damn eyes!
(pic) “But I do not wish to open my eyes, lady. Also, whose tail is flopped across me? RUDE.”
(pic) I took this picture, and then I picked up all the kittens and smooshed them to death. The TOES. The little hanging-open mouth! AGH!
(pic)
(pic) Zoe, 10 days old.
(pic) River, 10 days old.
(pic) Kaylee, 10 days old.
(pic) Inara, 10 days old.
I’ll do single pictures of each of them again at 2 weeks old and HOPEFULLY by then their eyes will be open. Fingers crossed!
Today’s uploaded kitten pics are hither.
(pic) “Ah laks to sniff at the door and make that Momma kitty freak out. Ah call it ‘passing the torch o’ hetred.’ Hahahahahah ::wheeze::”
Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: I love my cats, but sometimes I really HATE MY FUCKING CATS too.
2005: KIND OF LIKE HERPES.
2004: The mind boggles, does it not?
2003: Sam’s! Whoo!
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Ah, the intrigues of 11 year old girls…