ATTENTION, Long Island, NY residents! Weren’t you just saying you needed a kitten?
Reader Rosemary has four kittens who need a home.
I am in Long Island, New York. The kittens were born to a feral (but friendly) mother in the boatyard where I work. We noticed them July 22, when they seemed to be three or four weeks old, so they were probably born the last week of June. A coworker and I had them spayed and got their rabies shots through a local animal rescue, but I had to bring them back to the boatyard because no shelter could take them and I am unable to foster them. They’re living in a barn on the boatyard, so they’ve been relatively safe and sheltered during the warm weather, but it’s not weather-tight for the winter. After I brought them back, Molly, the momma cat, disappeared – I hope she just decided that the kittens were old enough to take care of themselves. I’ve been feeding the babies, and they’ve gradually become more friendly. The kittens don’t realize they are supposed to be feral, and they don’t know how to hunt. They are used to being fed.
Barney is an orange boy, loves to play but needs some socialization.
Clown is a sweet and cuddly dilute calico female, grey and orange. She loves to be held.
Phantom is a beautiful all gray male, very skittish still but you can tell that when he gets some concentrated attention, he’s going to be a lovebug.
Skittles is a gray male with a white chest and paws, playful and bold but will purr if you hold him.
Anyone interested in adopting one or two or four kittens? Let me know, and I’ll pass your email along to Rosemary!
Things that are annoying the SHIT out of me lately.
1. My uterus. GODDAMN. I went on the pill to regulate my period and stop the between-period spotting, and for a few months it worked, but the spotting is back. IT’S BACK, O JOY. It’s not heavy spotting, it’s fairly light. Just heavy enough, y’know, to make it a pain in the ass. You know, I’m not USING the goddamn thing (my uterus, that is), I’m thisclose to demanding that my gynecologist just yank the fucking thing out. Yes, I’ve heard of the endometrial ablation, that’ll likely be the next step. STUPID FUCKING UTERUS.
2. We live across the street from a truck driver and his family. I rarely ever even see them over there, I just assume they’re all alive and well. What fucking irks me is that when he’s home and an 18-wheeler goes by, they feel the GODDAMN FUCKING NEED to blow their goddamn motherfucking air horns at his house to give him the ol’ HEYHOWYADOIN. This pisses me off because it scares the fucking shit out of every animal on the property. The chickens go screaming to the chicken coop, and cower underneath it. The dogs bark and bark and bark. And inside the house, every cat goes hauling ass to the back of the house. If they’re in the back yard, they come hauling ass inside and hide. I suppose I should just thank my lucky stars that they don’t do it at NIGHT.
3. About two miles down the road from us, they’re putting in an interchange off a major interstate. My life is going to get easier when they open it, because I can just drive down to the interchange and hop onto the interstate, then drive straight up the interstate to Tennessee to get to the vet. I’m estimating that it’ll cut about 5 minutes off the drive (which currently takes 25 minutes). To all appearances, it seems to be complete, but they’ve still got it blocked off. Most of the signs are up, the entire thing on both sides is completely paved, but it just SITS there, blocked off. Mocking me because I have to drive up into Closeville and hit 500 traffic lights to get on the interstate. I’m sure they’re waiting to have some sort of stupid-ass ribbon cutting ceremony, but I’m thisclose to just using the goddamn exit, blockades or no.
4. I made two batches of jam/ jelly yesterday, and of course – OF COURSE – I failed to check first to make sure I had enough jelly jars. I did not – and had to use two pint jars. Who the hell needs a pint jar of jalapeno jelly, I ask you? NO ONE. One day I’m going to get my shit together before I get the bright idea to start making jam.
5. I was super excited to find that in the shopping center where they’ve put the Publix I love so much, they were putting a Pet Dep0t. There are no other pet stores in the area, and my favorite pet store – Petsmart – is half an hour away. I figured, I’d keep Petsmart as my usual pet store, but Pet Dep0t could serve in a pinch since it’s only ten minutes away. I’ve had three or four pinches, and let me tell you – Pet Dep0t is absolutely fucking useless. They have two small aisles of cat food, none of the kind we use, and a few other cat supplies. I went in there yesterday to see if they had nursing bottles with shorter nipples than the bottles I had on hand, and they only had the same kind of bottles I already had. Which, you know, okay. Maybe they don’t MAKE nursing bottles with shorter nipples, what do I know? But then I started looking to see if I could find something for the new kittens to use as a little cave, and not only did they have NOTHING in the tiny, useless cat section, they didn’t even have little pyramids in the FERRET section, which I know Petsmart carries, because I’ve often considered buying one in the past. Of the three or four times I’ve run into Pet Dep0t, I’ve come out of there buying absolutely nothing every single time. Even Wal-Mart has a better selection.
6. It seems like at least three times a week, I sit down with my lunch in front of the computer (yeah, yeah, not supposed to read while you’re eating, tell someone who cares) and the goddamn motherfucking internet is down. And then I have to send a text message to Fred saying “O LOOK, INTERNET IS DOWN AGAIN, I AM SO GLAD WE PAY PROMPTLY EVERY MONTH JESUS GODDAMN FUCKING CHRIST OUR INTERNET PROVIDER SUCKS ASS, HAVE I MENTIONED?” and then I swear that one of these days I’m going to just toss my fucking computer right out the door and spend the rest of my life computer-free IMAGINE HOW MUCH MORE I COULD GET DONE and then after I’ve finished eating lunch the goddamn internet comes back up. Fuck you, internet provider. You might be the only choice in town right now, but it won’t always be so, and I dream of that day.
I only managed to get this one picture of one of the new guys (the friendly calico) yesterday, I was more concerned with getting them to eat. They’re all eating pretty well, we’re getting a nice amount of formula in them at each feeding, and at least two of them – the friendly calico and the gray kitten – are interested in Gerber chicken baby food, and will lick it off a spoon (I’ve tried putting it on a plate, but they just walk through it). The kittens are as of yet still unnamed, but Fred’s under strict instructions to come up with names for them today. The gray and black kittens are both boys, so we’ve got two boys and two girls.
They are so sweet, these little kittens. The black boy has a hair-trigger spitting reaction to just about everything. The hissy-spitty calico is less hissy as time goes by, but she’s still spitting plenty. The friendly calico is just that – very friendly. After we feed them, we let them run around the room for a while to explore, and she always ends up in my lap on her back demanding a belly rub.
The calicos are definitely peeing in the litter box. The boys might be too, but they’re still giving me plenty of urine when I stimulate them at meal time, so I’ll keep doing that ’til I actually see them in the litter box.
I’ll get more pictures of them today (the incredible sweet fluffiness of the gray boy MUST be documented), and hopefully by tomorrow morning they’ll have names!
I let the True Bloods out of their room yesterday morning at around 8, and they spent all day, until about 6:30, out and running around. They really REALLY like running around the house, as I’m sure you can imagine.
They also really like snoozing on the couch.
Hoyt cracks me up with his woe-is-me expressions.
Hoyt and Sam, asleep on the couch.
Sookie and Bill, snuggled up on the kitchen rug.
Terry and Lafayette, asleep on the filing cabinet next to my desk (and Miz Poo, asleep on my desk).
Bill and a toy on the kitchen floor.
Terry, asleep on the kitchen floor.
Sam, coming down the stairs to see what’s going on.
“I HAS A COMPLAINT.”
Look at how SMUG Hoyt is, laying there next to Miz Poo. And Miz Poo is struggling with the eternal dilemma – to smack, or not to smack?
Need a kitten? Just put out a box, and one will show up within five minutes. Guaranteed!
Previously
2008: I’m sure SOMETHING will get peed on while she’s here, anyway.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: UGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH.
2004: Questions and answers.
2003: I feel like Eudora’s a creepy old lady hovering over my shoulder, reading my email, and threatening to tell my mommy on me.
2002: Anything more complicated than that, and I think you’ll have to look elsewhere.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.